Hawke's ABCS
by DranTheClamsThief
Summary: Read Sassy Hawke's adventures in Alphabetical order, as he saves his brother over and over, fails to seduce broody elves, and plays his successful role as the Janitor of Kirkwall. Rated T for language and the occasional innuendo.
1. Chapter 1

A is for Apostate, and that means you!

Garret never thought of himself as an apostate. An apostate was someone who lived outside the law, someone who was dangerous. Garret was nothing to himself but a person, someone who was born free. He never stopped to question why he wouldn't have this freedom, because no one ever threatened this freedom. Other than that, afew Templars _would _show up, but along with Carver he would always use his wily, wily ways to get rid of them. Carver would be the first to disagree however, stating that the Templars 'were always on their tails.' Carver was always the first to bitch.

When he left Ferelden for Kirkwall, he found out other mages had it differently, and it was a baffling discovery. He thought of the circle more as a sort of school, never a prison. Somewhere mages would go for some time in their lives and be able to leave if they learned properly, and weren't stubborn. This was far from the truth, it seemed, and what an awful truth.

Garret did hear awful tales of Apostates escaping from time to time, and the horrible punishments Templars would unleash if a mage escaped. He was told certain mages would be broken down, distributed and fed to their fellow mages after their death. He was sure this was a load of shit, but the thought was still very frightening.

However, what he feared most was the idea of being made tranquil; The idea of someone taking away your thoughts, your dreams, taking away all the color and daily pleasures of life just because you may be something to fear is a fate worse than death.

Most Templars are idiots anyway, it seems. After Garret left for Kirkwall, if he wasn't an open apostate he didn't know who was. This made Carver increasingly grumpy it seemed, causing almost every sentence that came out of his mouth to be one about how he was caught in Garret's shadow. Garret wondered why he didn't just move over if he didn't like being in his shadow.

Most mages are also idiots it seems. It's very contradictory to state not all mages are blood mages or abominations, and then become one yourself. Garret had met so many abominations and blood mages throughout the years Fenris' ramblings soon began making sense.

Not to mention the two other mages in his little band of misfits were exactly that: an abomination and a blood mage. Increasingly frustrating ones, too.

He missed Bethany. Never once did she go on ramblings about the plight of the mages, never once did she turn to blood magic. She was really into shoes, though, Garret always counted that as her biggest flaw.

One thing people never seemed to get is that Garret Hawke was himself, an apostate that never turned to blood magic and never became an abomination. You think people would pay better attention.

At the end of the day, although Garret was never an abomination, he was a mage he supposed, and mages outside of the circle are apostates. He was also several things the Templars would not see, and this was the same with every mage.

Shit, he's beginning to sound like Anders.


	2. B is for beards

B is for beards.

Garret's pride all rested in the fullness of his bear. Maybe a few other things, but it was his beard that he relied on the most.

Carver never could grow a beard, not even when he was eighteen. Garret had to shave every day since he was fifteen, so he never understood Carver's dilemma. Hawke didn't see what was so upsetting, Bethany couldn't grow a beard either, and he was pretty sure twins shared these sort of things.

Garrett tried being friends with Carver, he really did. He would take Carver to the Hanged Man. He even tried the Blooming Rose once, but Carver just left as soon as Garrett told him where they were going. Garrett was at a loss, he knew Carver had gone there before, but when it was time to go with his brother, that was too much? Prude.

He even got so desperate as to ask his band of misfits for help. No one was very helpful. Fenris swore he wouldn't understand so any advice he gave would be insufficient . Merril suggested giving Carver a flower arrangement, but Garrett wasn't sure he'd pick the right flowers. Varric confirmed Garret's belief that Garrett could shower Carver in gold and he would complain about the bruises. Aveline was the only one to suggest Garrett just openly talk to him. Garrett wasn't sure what openly entitled, but he would do whatever.

He shaved his beard before he did. What an awful, awful experience. But Garrett was determined to put himself on equal ground with Carver, and therefore both of them would have their naked baby chins hanging out.

He approached him towards the end of the day, stiffly holding himself higher than normal, to prove his masculinity despite his naked chin, which he was very aware of.

When Carver saw him, he immediately burst into outrageous fits of laughter. For the first time in several years Garrett could feel his cheeks burning up.

"You. . . YOU! Look awful! Blessed Andraste did you shave yourself with one of the old swords?"

At least he wasn't talking about being caught in Garrett's shadow.

"I actually woke up like this. Bam! All the hair was gone." Garret said, sitting down next to his brother. After Carver was done laughing, (which took a long time, Garrett almost grew bored.) Garrett decided to take action.

"Want to follow me around for a bit?"

"Is something wrong, brother?" Carver's expression shifted, molding into something more serious.

Shit. Carver would only hang out with him if something was wrong.

"Yes." Garrett lied. Or maybe it wasn't a lie, since he planned on taking Carver shopping and Garrett could never stay on track. Shopping was boring. He couldn't wait until he was rich enough to make someone else do it for him.

"Okay." Carver said, and put his drink down, standing up and absent mindedly brushing dust off his shoulders.

"Lead the way, brother."

"Err, okay." Garrett hoped to the maker that Carver didn't notice Garrett's lack of any weapon, nor his lack of any other company with him. It was odd, but Garrett only traveled in groups of four. Five or more, and at least one of them will get lost.

He stepped outside the hanged man, his mind bubbling with thoughts of possible outcomes. When he finally knew what to say his words came out awkwardly to say the least.

"Do you possibly know where they sell . . . cheese?" Garrett Hawke was one smooth operator. Carver looked surprised, opening his mouth before quickly closing it and then speaking.

"Yes, brother. Would you like me to show you where?"

Garrett nodded. Carver stepped ahead, uncomfortably as if he were unsure completely of what to do next. Garrett followed him, which was a change of pace, obviously.

Carver took him to the Bazaar in Lowtown, directing Garrett to a pretty nifty cheese-vendor he had never noticed before. Garrett was almost excited; this exquisite display of cheese was definitely something he needed in his life.

After gathering a basket of cheese, Garrett decided he needed bread.

"Carver, we need bread!" Garrett exclaimed, gesturing feverishly with his cheese.  
"okay, brother." Carver replied, leading him to a bread vendor across from the cheese vendor.

"Brother, is there a reason . . . for this?"  
Garrett nodded.

"Yes! Anders needs this for a potion thingy, you see, dummy." Carver obviously didn't believed it, obviously, but he nodded anyway, and stood still as Garrett dug for bread.

The day would progress the same, Carver lead and Hawke followed gathering various ingredients. The sun was setting, dawn drawing her dusty fingers past the horizon. Carver's impatience steadily grew.

"This was never a potion for Anders, was it? Unless Anders is planning on making a potion that can feed four people." Carver finally said, Garrett's shoulders slumped.

"No, I was just really hungry?" Carver brows furrowed, he looked at Garrett angrily.

"So that's it! You think I'm some sort of toy you can just drag around all day! Maybe I have more important things to do than follow you around."

"Nooooo." Garrett cried, sounding similar to a cow who hadn't been fed in some time. His mind was in overload; let's see how many times he could lie before he actually spoke the pathetic truth.

When Carver was little he worshiped the ground Garrett walked on. Every time Garrett made a joke he would burst into fits of laughter, every time Garrett spoke he would hang onto every word. When Garrett didn't want to eat something, neither did Carver. When Garrett didn't want to bathe, neither did Carver. Garrett wondered what happened since then, what changed.

" I er- Let's be friends!" Garrett exclaimed, and his hope shrunk as Carver's face eventually grew more disgusted.

"what?"

Hawke sighed, a loud and exaggerated sigh.

"Just- you've never liked me, and I could always deal with it because I'm funny and goodlooking- but now that's Beth's gone and mom's- my mom and I'm surrounded by extremists and rouges I thought I could use a companion that doesn't need therapy- which you're really not excluded from actually-"

This continued for several seconds before Carver interrupted.

"I'm not going to say you're my favorite person. Because you're not, brother. I'm always caught in your shadow and your jokes- aren't charming at all. But you're also my brother, and I wouldn't leave you alone. I thought you would've known better than that." He added on the last sentence with a bit of a sting.

"Are you sure that's you?" Hawke asked, getting at least a refrained grin from Carver.

"Well someone ought to stop you when you're being an idiot- and that happens a lot." Hawke nodded.

"How heartwarming." He added dumbly, Carver brought his palm to his face.

"Yes, yes you've had your fun."

When Hawke returned home, he was grinning the stupidest grin he could. Carver returned soon after, and they all ate dinner; Thus ending Garrett Hawke's embarrassing attempts to bond with his brother.

Carver was finally able to grow a beard by the time they entered the deep roads, and felt absolutely free to flaunt it openly.


End file.
